6i 



to the haunts of men. It loves light soil 

 and untrampled roots. Given those, it is 

 magnificent. Without them it sickens and 

 dies. None can know what a wealth of 

 blossom truly means who has not stood in 

 the wreathy top of a tulip-tree, looking down 

 at the earth through twenty feet of flowers, 

 and up to the sky through forty feet more. 

 Late May is the season. The leaves are 

 almost full-grown, the new twigs six inches 

 long, and each one bending with the green 

 and yellow cups. 



Linden and bass wood, persimmon and 

 pawpaw, chestnut, willow, each in due sea- 

 son furnishes sweets for the bee, scent 

 for the breeze. Ash, sycamore, oaks, have 

 blossoms, green and graceful, but lacking 

 sweetness. 



